“One million pounds sterling—to be split up between you in any proportion you may decide, and to be paid within one month of the completion of my work. After that the matter will pass into your hands ... and may you leave that cursed country grovelling in the dirty...” His eyes glowed with a fierce, vindictive fury; and then, as if replacing a mask which had slipped for a moment, the Count was once again the suave, courteous host. He had stated his terms frankly and without haggling: stated them as one big man states them to another of the same kidney, to whom time is money and indecision or beating about the bush anathema.
“Take them or leave them.” So much had he said in effect, if not in actual words, and not one of his audience but was far too used to men and matters to have dreamed of suggesting any compromise. All or nothing: and no doctrine could have appealed more to the three men in whose hands lay the decision....
“Perhaps, Count, you would be good enough to leave us for a few minutes.” Von Gratz was speaking. “The decision is a big one, and...”
“Why, certainly, gentlemen.” The Count moved towards the door. “I will return in ten minutes. By that time you will have decided—one way or the other.”
Once in the lounge he sat down and lit a cigarette. The hotel was deserted save for one fat woman asleep in a chair opposite, and the Count gave himself up to thought. Genius that he was in the reading of men’s minds, he felt that he knew the result of that ten minutes’ deliberation.... And then ... What then? ... In his imagination he saw his plans growing and spreading, his tentacles reaching into every corner of a great people—until, at last, everything was ready. He saw himself supreme in power, glutted with it—a king, an autocrat, who had only to lift his finger to plunge his kingdom into destruction and annihilation.... And when he had done it, and the country he hated was in ruins, then he would claim his million and enjoy it as a great man should enjoy a great reward.... Thus for the space of ten minutes did the Count see visions and dream dreams. That the force he proposed to tamper with was a dangerous force disturbed him not at all: he was a dangerous man. That his scheme would bring ruin, perhaps death, to thousands of innocent men and women, caused him no qualm: he was a supreme egoist. All that appealed to him was that he had seen the opportunity that existed, and that he had the nerve and the brain to turn that opportunity to his own advantage. Only the necessary money was lacking ... and ... With a quick movement he pulled out his watch. They had had their ten minutes ... the matter was settled, the die was cast....
He rose and walked across the lounge. At the swing doors was the head waiter, bowing obsequiously....
It was to be hoped that the dinner had been to the liking of Monsieur le Comte ... the wines all that he could wish ... that he had been comfortable and would return again....
“That is improbable.” The Count took out his pocket-book. “But one never knows; perhaps I shall.” He gave the waiter a note. “Let my bill be prepared at once, and given to me as I pass through the hall.”
Apparently without a care in the world the Count passed down the passage to his private room, while the head waiter regarded complacently the unusual appearance of an English five-pound note.
For an appreciable moment the Count paused by the door, and a faint smile came to his lips. Then he opened it, and passed into the room....